It's of the Good, the Old, and the Ugly
by Eris Goddess of Discord
Summary: Mister Gordo has a very big day in the big world and makes some new friends.


**Disclaimer: **No infringement of copyright is intended. You know the drill, anyone appearing on or mentioned on BtVS are ME's. New characters introduced here are mine.

**Rating: **G

**Spoilers: **None.

**Warnings: **None.

**Summary: **Mister Gordo has a very big day in the big world and makes some new friends.

**Pairing: **Mister Gordo, Giles, Anya and others

**Setting: **Season 6like

**Author's Note:** This was written for the Mister Gordo Ficathon hosted by Bookishwench on LJ. My challenge: A Mister G and Giles pairing with another, Anya suggested. And the plot device, the discovery that one of the Scoobies has a counterpart SA in their life. No pig harm or pig sex - no problemo. 

**Author's Note 2:** I just want to say I despise the fact that we can't use the asterisk anymore to seperate scenes. This ruled line crap is for the birds. Completely ruins the flow. Not to mention it was my safety net for special emphasis, ie. bold, italics, etc., of words which just happen to be eradicated when you convert the text between files and back again. -- Grr argh.

* * *

**...It's of the Good, the Old, and the Ugly**

**A Mr. Gordo Adventure**

_by Eris © 2004 -- All rights reserved._

'Dear Diary,' That's how Girl always starts her big day stories when she writes in her little red secret book before bed. I don't know who Diary is, I've never met her, but she must be very important to Girl for her to tell her all her big day stuff every night.

Well, tonight was my turn. I had day stuff to tell, two days worth of day stuff. I was so excited I thought I would pop my seams. I wanted so badly to tell Girl everything that had happened to me because it was big big big, but I couldn't, and that made me sad. Then I thought maybe I could write this Diary person. Maybe they would hear? But then I remembered I didn't have a book and I don't know how to write. So, I snuck into Red Fur and Shy Girl's room to ask Red Fur's Jesse for help since Jesse knows everything. But Jesse just scratched his big fluffy mane and said he couldn't help ... something about pencils and no thumbs, which I didn't understand at all, and said for me to just tell him and Twinkle already. So I did.

* * *

**The pig's tale:**

Two sun times ago, Red Fur comes into the room, snatches me up off the bed, swinging me high in the air, and presents me to the Shy One. She smiles wide, taking me and pressing her nose against my snout, cooing sweetly. I don't see Shy Girl very often, and even less see her so smiley, so shiny. I like to make her smile. It tingles when I do.

Red Fur takes me back and we leave Girl's room. I'm so excited I can hardly contain myself. I hardly ever leave Girl's room anymore with the Big Ones. We head down the hall to the big room, it used to be Mommie's room, but now it's Red and Shy's. Red Fur puts me on the bed. I see Jesse and Shy's dolly Twinkle watching closely. 'Hi Jesse, hi Twinkle. Look at me, wheeee!' Red then plops a big bag next to me, making me bounce a bit, and shoves stuff around inside, making some room, before finally putting me into it. There's so much stuff in the bag I stick out the top and can see everything.

Red Fur takes me out of the house. We are going into the big blue, and it's SO blue today. It's bright and warm and I remember when Girl was little and would take me out like this. Together we'd run all over and fall down on the big soft green, or climb into the tree arms, or have tea parties with Barbie and Miss Pony and Li'l Ted and Dolly. They are all gone now. I am the only one left.

I make myself sad, but it doesn't last long because here comes the Old Frowny One inside a broken red car. He's probably sad because the top is broken off of his car. We climb into the car. The girls say it's too small, but to me it's big, not as big as the big yellow bus, but big enough. Off we go, and it's fun because with no top the wind blows on every part of me and I giggle. As we go I see so much new. 'What's that? And that? And?--' Oh, my little head spins with wonder at the sights and sounds and smells.

* * *

**Giles' Day:**

'I don't know how she does it. Maybe I am getting old. Or becoming hard of hearing,' he thought as he drove down Revello Drive towards the Summers' house. 'Then again, I am guilty of turning a deaf ear to the nonstop flow that erupts like Old Faithful from that little red head. I guess this is my punishment for not paying closer attention to what I give a casual yes to.'

'Oh well, I can always use more white shirts, maybe some socks, and definitely a pack of handkerchiefs. Once they've been _demon gooed_ they're never the same again. Best to just toss them out as no washing will remove it. Egads, now she's got me doing it. Focus, man, remember you're doing this for Buffy. You've been so out of synch lately, nothing you've done seems to reach her. So melancholy. So lost. I can't believe... Am I so desperate as to be trying this? Maybe I'm under a spell?' He stopped the car at the end of the walk. Willow and Tara were already waiting.

He opened the door for his passengers and off they went. How dressing up a piece of peach felt could possibly make Buffy happy he couldn't fathom. But Willow assured him it would, and recently Willow was the authority on all things in the Buffyverse, so he went along with it -- for the moment, in spite of the fact that becoming Willow's personal taxi was beginning to become taxing.

* * *

Red, Shy and Old Frowny take me to what I overhear is called the mall. I've heard of this before but I've never been. There are so many people and pretty lights and colors that my little piggy head begins to hurt. So much, too much. We run up and down and in and out of the many, many stores, Old Frowny trailing behind making grumpy noises, moving slowly like he wants to go home. Red and Shy play dress up as Frowny sits in a chair holding me in Red's bag on his lap. His frown gets bigger and bigger every time Red and Shy come out to show off their shiny new clothes. He talks at me as they play, but his voice is not nice and keeps getting worse. Finally we go into a store I couldn't see the name of, but it has lots and lots of cards like Girl gets on birfdays and hollydays. There are also many, many ones like me all waiting to go home with girls and boys of their own.

'Oh no,' suddenly I am scared, so scared I begin to shiver. Why did Red Fur, Shy Girl and Old Frowny bring me here? What are they going to do? I want to run. I want my Girl. But before I can be more ascared, Red Fur laughs, taking me out of the bag, and hands me to the Frowny One. Shy takes me from him. She has a pile of stuff she has picked out and starts holding it up next to me. 'Oh! It's my turn to play dress up now.' The girls laugh and smile and make me want to squeal with joy. Shy finds what she calls the perfect outfit and Red agrees. We do this for a long long long long time, and not once does Frowny smile. No matter how hard I try, his frown does not turn upside down, and he only seems to become more angry. Finally he raises his voice, sounding like Girl's long gone doggie Sandy barking. His words are hot and shiver-making. I don't think I like him right now, and it's definitely time to go. So off we go with big bags of new stuff.

This is fine with me. This is more than I've done in a forever and I am getting a little sleepy. We rush out to the car, Red and Frowny still barking as Shy trails behind now, and when we get back to the broken car it is dark time, and everything is lit up. I don't recognize anything, but it is so pretty. Frowny is still mad. He is talking nonstop at Red Fur in the bad way as we go and I sit in the back with Shy who has become quiet, stroking my fur.

* * *

The mall was loud and thronging with people who seemingly lacked the ability to find something better to do with their time and money. 'For Buffy's sake' Giles reminded himself and endured the hours of nonstop prattle, and the hours of window shopping, and clothes taking off, and trying on, but he drew the line at hours of piggy dress up.

"Yes, it's pure hilarity, may we go now?" 'Thirty-five minutes. Lord, had it been thirty-five minutes already?' Why they couldn't just pick something out and be done with it already was beyond him.

"No, I don't think a man's opinion matters on the blue suit or brown suit when it's for a stuffed pig." 'One and a half hours in the Hallmark. There couldn't possibly be that many bloody buggery doll costumes in the entire mall to merit one and a half hours.' However, every time he thought they were finished, they managed to find yet another _new_ to fawn over.

"That's it! I'm leaving. And if you buy that little tweed jacket and red car for him, you can bloody well have Mr. Gordo drive you home in it." 'Two hours is my limit as sure as...,' his thoughts trailed off, '...waiting here playing the fool...'

Outside he breathed deep and attempted to regain his piece of mind, but it didn't work as the atmosphere inside malls reminded him too much of carnivals, and he just wanted away. When they finally emerged from the store, Willow told him to lighten up with the Henry Fonda routine and maybe a lemonade or a pretzel would stave off some of his old poopiness, and he should live a little as she would buy. 'Old poopiness indeed.'

But at that point he was beyond the stereotypical Bill Cosby castrated house husband stage of carrying her ever increasing load of baggage. He had responsibilities, two books yet to plod through on demon scourge, and needed to get back to The Magic Box before... 'Oh gods, before Anya did that thing.' He never wanted to see her do that again as long as he lived, and if he didn't get there in time -- 'THE HORROR.' So he raised his voice, which prompted Willow to go into debate mode. If he could just get them into the car, he could pretend to ignore her on the grounds of needing to concentrate on the driving. It only half worked, but they became quiet and were over when they arrived at The Magic Box.

* * *

We still do not go back home, back to Girl. Instead, we go to a magic box. I don't know why it was called a magic box as it wasn't a box at all but another store. And I didn't see anything magic going on.

Inside Manycolor Fur is waiting. She looks happy playing with all the Big One toys.

Red Fur and Shy come to rest at a table and put all the bags down next to their chairs. My bag droops and I tip over the side onto the floor. I shift as I fall so that I land where I can see what else is going on. Nothing really, just Big One talk. 'I miss Girl.' Suddenly the girls reach for the bags and begin to walk away. 'Oh no!' With all the new they never noticed I wasn't there. 'Come back! Please you've got to come back. Red! Shy! Take me home to Girl!' But they leave and I am alone.

I sit on the floor for quite a while. No one knows I am there. I am so sad.

* * *

Inside the voice hit Giles like a cascade of broken glass as Anya squawked a barrage of questions his way. 'Thank the gods, not a moment too soon. It hadn't started.' They reviewed the day's events. Buffy was absent, out on patrol, and so far no new menace threatened an apocalypse this eve. He might actually get to sleep tonight.

The shop was quiet, a typical Tuesday night, and all he really had left to do was review Anya's ledger, replenish Buffy's weapons' store, if need be, and find his infernal "Demonicus Demonium". He hoped one of the group hadn't gotten it mixed up with the for-sale volumes.

Before long the girls were on their way, Willow bounced out the door, Tara lingered long enough to wave to him and mouth an apologetic thank you. 'Such a sweet girl. So sad,' he sighed a sigh of relief, then silently cursed Mr. Maclay and scolded Mr. Rosenberg for having put him in the _im_position of surrogate father figure.

* * *

Someone needs to see me, but Frowny is in the back and Manycolor is running about doing the cleaning thing. She turns the ray-dee-oh up and is soon dancing about the floor with a broom. It looks funny, and I can't help but giggle. She likes what she is doing. I watch and soon she comes near, moving the chairs. 'Here I am,' I yell. And she stops and stares like maybe she heard me. She pokes me with her broom and it tickles. 'You found me!' I cry but she doesn't hear me and screams. She screams really really well, too.

Her noise makes Frowny come running with a sharp stick. They both jump around. It reminds me of the silly men from the moving picture box, the Stooges. Shaggy Furred Dark Boy likes them. He, Girl and Red would sometimes watch them after school. Or maybe they are dancing but Manycolor is definitely not singing with the music, she is still screaming, making a big fuss, as Mommie used to say. Finally Frowny manages to calm her down a little and she points as she jumps up on the big desk. He looks under the chair and makes faces at me. I giggle, 'Hello Frowny.' Then he stands up and flaps his arms at Many before bending down to finally pick me up. He waves me in the air at her, and she falls backwards off the desk. 'Owie.' It looked like it hurt a lot. Big Ones don't bounce like little piggies do.

Frowny takes off my new outfit and drops it on the desk, setting me next to it. Many gets up and picks me up now. She is not ascared anymore but she is not happy either and looks at me like Frowny has been most of the trip. Setting me back on the desk, she picks up my outfit. She doesn't like it and she tells Frowny so loudly.

* * *

Giles headed to the back, leaving Anya to her evening closing duties, secure in the fact that she would be completely engrossed for at least the next twenty plus minutes.

For twenty minutes he decided to sit quietly and hold his head, a thousand and one thoughts racing through it, all mostly bleak. Then he heard it.

* * *

Anya was completely engrossed in her nightly ritual of

where-in-the-heck-did-this-come-from-and-now-where-should-I-put-it?, followed soon after by skim dusting with her favorite hot pink feather duster to her favorite CD, then going all commando-like with the Windex bottle on fingerprint patrol, and finally not to be left out, breezing across the hardwoods with her dance partner Mr. Broom.

As she hit the big table area, she moved one of the chairs to sweep underneath, spied something, poked at it, then abruptly dropped her broom and screamed. She screamed a scream normally reserved for bloody murders and falling out of ten story buildings.

At once Giles sprang from the back room, a small double bladed axe drawn high over his shoulder. "What? Who?" searching frantically for the source of her terror.

"There! There!" She pointed and danced about in the throes of a complete wiggins.

"Where?" he asked desperately as he saw nothing and thought he might be going blind.

"There on the floor," she directed to the table moving to hide behind him.

Giles hurried over, searching wildly, expecting some big bad boogedy, only to screech to a halt and blink as he focused on something next to the leg of the chair. Something small. He watched for a moment, but it didn't stir, then slowly lowering his weapon he retrieved the broom and poked at it.

Anya yelped, making him jump.

"Will you kindly not do that," he scolded.

"Keep it away from me!" she yelled then skittered onto the counter.

Reaching down, he picked it up, straightening his glasses to examine it. Recognizing it, he turned and shook it at her. "What? This stuffed pig?"

She screamed again, shied away putting up her arms defensively, suddenly lost her balance and fell backwards to the floor. After the thud he heard a meek, "Yes, that--" from behind the counter.

He repeated himself. "--Stuffed pig."

Peaking over the counter edge now she heard what he said that time. "S-s-stuffed pig?"

"Yes, a plush toy."

Confusion ran rampant across her face as she took a good look at it. "Oh," was all she could think to reply, then cackled nervously, reaching out a suspicious hand to confirm his claim, "I-I-I thought it was--"

"A rabbit, so I gathered." He handed it to her, moving to lean on the counter. Breathing deeply, he removed a hanky from his back pocket to mop his brow, "I thought you were being murdered out here. Please don't ever do that again unless you truly are. I don't think my nerves can stand it."

She examined it, brow knit, a huge scowl on her lips, "Wha-what moron would put a-a-a--" she shook it at him, "--would dress up a pig like this?"

He almost chuckled revealing, "That's Willow's doing."

* * *

At the Summers' residence:

"Oh my God, Tara! Where is Mister Gordo?" Willow freaked.

"In the bag, sweetie," she replied absently.

"No, no, he's not," Willow shrilled pouring the entire contents of her oversized purse onto the floor, feverishly rummaging through it. The pile of stuff was impressive but unfortunately Gordo light.

Tara watched as her girlfriend began to spin, turning three shades of red and beginning to hyperventilate. "I've lost the pig! I've... Lost... The pig! I've-I've--Buffy will kill me for sure."

Kneeling next to her, she took her by the shoulders and tried to comfort her. "Try and stay calm, baby. He didn't crawl out of there on his own. Let's think. Retrace our steps. He must have fallen out. If he had on the walk home, we'd have noticed, right? Did you put the bag down anywhere?"

Willow jumped up, "The Magic Box!" Then threw herself at the floor again and fumbled through the mess for her cell phone, "Where is it?" She hit her auto speed dialer, "Giles, please still be open and please God let Mister Gordo be at The Magic Box." She prayed.

"Gosh, I hope so," Tara sighed and screwed up her face.

* * *

The Big Ones talk forever, then the phone rings. 'Whew,' it seems Red Fur found me gone and now Frowny is going to take me to Girl. This makes me so happy I want to squeal.

* * *

"Willow dressed it up like a bunny and left it on the floor where I would find it to purposely make me die of a heart attack tonight," Anya accused, her face clenched tight as a fist as she examined the minute bunny costume.

"I sincerely doubt that _you_ were ever given a thought to in this," he reasoned.

"Well, I don't put anything past her," she finished.

"Of course not," he snapped impatiently putting his handkerchief away. "Are we done here?"

She curled a lip at him, "We would be by now if Willow's little joke hadn't nearly made me wet myself."

Just then the phone rang, and Giles eagerly retrieved it to clear that ghastly image from his brain, "Thank you for calling the Mag--oh," he turned to her. "It's Willow."

Stepping into him she groused. "Give me that phone I'm going to give her a piece of my mind."

"No, I-I-I mean, yes, it's here," he replied dodging her phone gropage. "No, on the floor. No, don't. I'll put it somewhere safe for the night."

"Giles, give me the phone," Anya pressed, long arms flailing for the receiver, but he leaned away continuing to dodge her. "Giles?" She was insistent, but he was quick and not about to relinquish the phone. Unfortunately, she was not to be denied and grabbed him, jumping up and down, yelling at the receiver, "Ha-ha Willow, very funny! Just you wait--"

"Anya, please," he scolded and placed a finger over his free ear to hear Willow. "No, just Anya, never mind. Yes, tomorrow. All right. Good night. Good bye," and he hung up the phone.

In a huff she crossed her arms at him, "Rude much, Giles."

"Depends on the company I keep," he quipped.

"Why didn't you give me the phone?" she whined.

"Because I wish to leave here tonight--NOW."

She frowned, "You're always sticking up for her."

"No, I'm not. If you wish to have at each other, by all means do so, just not now, and not near me."

Anya had ceased listening. "I'll show her," snatching up the toy she held it close in one hand and pulled a pair of scissors out of a drawer brandishing them Giles' direction. "I'm going to take this thing and--"

"I wouldn't do that," he interrupted. "_That _belongs to Buffy."

"Buffy?" she echoed dropping the scissors.

"Yes, and she'd be rather miffed if you," he couldn't believe he was about to let the words slip from his tongue, "_hurt_ Mr. Gordo."

She had heard Buffy mention its name before. "Mr. Gordo?"

"So it's called," he replied with a slight nod.

"Mr. Gordo...," she pondered twirling him about. Suddenly her tone changed. "Do you suppose she sleeps with him?"

He opened and closed his mouth like a fish on dry land trying to decide if he could, much less should, bother to answer that question, as no good could possibly come of it.

"Do you suppose this is her little confidant?"

"I wouldn't know."

"...And that she tells all her wicked bad secrets to him?"

He frowned. "Is there a point to your new disturbing line of questions?"

"Maybe," she looked at him with a queer smile on her lips. "I have a secret I'd like to share."

"Oh dear lord, not me," he thought he had said in his head, but apparently not as she responded.

"Yes, you."

"Must we?" he cringed.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because you're the only _supposed_ adult of this group, and I trust you not to laugh like a prepubescent schoolgirl and tease me endlessly about it."

"Can't you tell Xander?" he waffled.

She cocked her head her brow knitting, "Were you not listening just now?"

"Sorry duly noted." He turned and looked at her sternly, building confidence, "Anya, this secret doesn't involve you getting unclothed in any fashion, does it?"

"No," she quirked an eyebrow. "Why would you ask--"

"No reason," he interrupted, 'no reason at all.' The latter part of The Dance of Capitalist Superiority flitting through his brain as he turned a shade of pale.

"What's wrong with you tonight?" she asked at his less than usual stoic demeanor, "Are you sweating? Giles, are you sick?"

'No, not yet.'

* * *

Before long Manycolor is pulling her bag out from under the big desk. 'No, no, I don't want to go with her. Frowny is supposed to take me back to Girl. I want to go home to Girl.' She doesn't put me into her bag, though. Instead she pulls something out. I don't know what it is. I've never seen anything like it. Manycolor Fur tells the Old Frowny One what it is. It has a very long name.

Then she puts the thing on the desk next to me and goes off with him into another room. I look at it and don't know what to think. It is round and small with a worn patch of fur on top and it looks like ... like a face. A very small, my sized Big One face. A face that has had its face sewed up. But there is no body attached to this face. It's horribly ugly and I don't like it.

It must have heard me because it opened its eye and looked around. 'AAAAHHH!' I jump back startled. 'H-H-Hello,' I am finally brave enough to say and am surprised when it can talk too. And move. How it moves without arms or legs I don't quite know, but it hops over to me and through the loose stitches on its mouth tells me it's not an _it_ but a _he_, a Car-dee-nall Ray-ven-ow. That's a mouthful. And I guess it should be as he tells me he is very, very old. I never knew anyone could be a nine with two ohs before. He talks big like the Big Ones, but he makes me shiver. Even though he is nice to me, I can feel he is not. He tells me he was to be a poap one day, but I don't know what that is, and he doesn't stop talking to let me ask. Then tells me all kinds of bad things about Manycolor Fur and how she 'did him wrong' and even uses not so nice language. He does not like her. He is a nasty thing. No, I do not like him at all and want away from him.

* * *

Reaching under the counter, Anya brought out her purse and began to rummage through it. "Are you ready?"

'Probably not, but I doubt I have a choice here anyway,' he thought holding his breath and just nodded his head.

From out of her purse Anya produced an item. "This is it."

He stared at it, 'What the?--' "Th-that's a shrunken head," he replied distinctly.

"Yes," she grinned ear to ear like a proud parent.

"Why are you showing me a shrunken head? We have a whole case of them in storage."

"Not like this one," she cooed. "This is _my_ Mr. Gordo."

"Th-that shrunken head?" he was slightly bewildered.

She cocked her head and took up an inquisitive posture, "Are you sure you're feeling all right?"

'No, never again,' he thought leaning in to look at it and scowl.

"Rupert Giles, meet Cardinal Ravenhowe."

"C-C-cardinal? Dare I ask if that's literal."

"Yup, this little guy was an overly ambitious, overly libidinous, one day hoping to be all Popeylike, perv upon whom one of his spurned mistresses sought vengeance."

"For you to speak so highly of him he must have been incredibly corrupt, even by demon standards."

"He was. And this is what he gets."

"I don't think anyone deserves to be a demon--" he took a closer look. "Is that a key chain?"

She grinned, "He's good for something now."

Straightening up, he shook his head, "You can be a frightening woman some days."

"Why thank you, Giles," she smiled taking his words as a compliment.

"Shall we finish the orders then and make a break for home before something apocalyptic comes up?" he asked.

She nodded, and they retreated into the back for a brief time.

* * *

Just like that the Old Frowny One and Manycolor Fur return. Many sees that Cardeenall is awake. She picks him up, holding him in the palm of her hand, and talks to him. He grumbles meanly at her, and she then flicks him with her finger, putting him in his place. Frowny watches, making faces like he has eaten something sour. He does not like Cardeenall either, and we're both glad when Manycolor drops him back into her bag.

Finally it's time to go home. Old Frowny picks me up, and back into the car we go. This time I get to sit in the Big One seat next to him. No more bag for me, I get to ride on top of his books. This is fun. We drive for I don't know how long and I don't know where because I can't see out from this spot. When we do stop, he picks me up, and I expect to see Girl's house but, 'Oh no, it isn't home. Where are we now?'

* * *

Upon returning, Giles gathered his books and papers, creating a stack, and grabbed for Mr. Gordo. His hand venturing too close, the Cardinal nipped at his finger as a warning. Giles jumped, jerked his hand away, and yelped like a woman, "By all that's!-- You never said it was still alive."

Anya set her bundle down behind the counter, her voice oozing of sarcasm, "Hello, if he were dead that wouldn't be much of a punishment now would it."

His brow knit at his own naivete, "No, of course, how stupid of me. Dying would be a welcome reward to an eternity with you."

"Is that a crack?" She eyed him, "I just shared a very personal thing here with you tonight that I haven't shared with anyone except Halfrek. Well, she was there, but that's besides the point."

"You're right. I'm sorry," he apologized. "I-it's wonderful you have someone who's _there_ for you. May we just close the shop now?"

"Time to go home, Cardinal," she cooed holding him in the palm of her hand.

Giles cringed, "Yes, please don't forget that."

It fussed and mouthed off to her.

"That's so not nice, Ravey," she over dramatized as if she were scolding a naughty child or a pet and flicked him as a punishment, then held him aloft by the key chain, dropping him from a nice height back into her purse, a barely audible, "Oophf, wench," sounding when he hit bottom.

Taking Mr. Gordo and thanking the powers that be he was just a plush toy, Giles locked up, and they parted ways for the evening.

* * *

Frowny takes me inside a new someplace. It's small and dark like a cave but not scary. It's warm and smells stale like under the blankets when Girl would play with me late at supposed-to-be-asleep time and read to me with a flashlight.

He sets me on a desk atop his stack of books. I am in the place of yummy stuff now, the Big One food getting place, the kich'in. 'Oh, I know this.' Old Frowny is having a tea party. He has a pot and cup like Girl did, only bigger, then he makes himself some sammiches and goes into the other room. 'Hey, no fair. We're supposed to share at parties.' I can't see him, my back is turned, but I hear him. He comes back after a while with his cup and gets a bottle from one of the wall closets and pours it into his cup. He does this a few times, then just leaves the cup and takes the bottle. He also then takes me with him.

We are in the big room the Big Ones call the living room, but his is smaller than Girl's. He puts me on the table and sits on the couch, drinking from his bottle. After a while he begins to talk to me, then picks me up, bringing me closer to his face. He smells funny, like the cough stuff Girl would take, or the stinky stuff Mommie would rub on her chest when she couldn't breathe. 'Pee-ew, Frowny. Your breath makes my little eye buttons burn.' He tells me all kinds of secrets but his voice crackles and skips words and some I just can't understand because his lips seem to want to do their own thing other than talk.

Before long he puts me back on the table and gets up. He must be sick as he leans and sways like Floppy Dog or Sock Monkey and almost falls down when he gets up and heads away. When he comes back, he has a big box. Sitting on the couch again, he opens the box and talks to me. He tells me there is something very special to him in the box and very old too. 'Oh no,' I've heard that once already, then Manycolor Fur brought out the Cardeenall. I _so_ hope he doesn't pull him out of the box. I wouldn't like that at all.

He takes out something that is wrapped in a soft, brightly colored cloth. It is much bigger than Cardeenall was, and even bigger than me. He removes the cloth, and I smile ear to ear.

"Mr. Gordo meet Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle," he says and sets her next to me. "You two play nice. I'm off to bed, cheers," and heads up the stairs.

"Hello there," I say and smile up at her. She looks nice, but after meeting Cardeenall I am a little unsure.

"Oh hello, dear," she replies with a sweet voice kind of like Girl's Gramma had. She can see I am a bit ascared and waddles over to take my trotter, patting it, telling me to not be. She _is_ nice. And we talk. I ask her all kinds of questions, like if the pointy things all over her hurt, and she answers every one slowly so I can understand.

'Goodness gracious, no. Touch one.'

She is right. They look pointy but are soft just like my fur. I ask her what kind of toy she is, and she tells me she is a hej hog. I am excited as I think she is a piggy like me, but then she explains what a hej hog is and that she has a children's book written about her. I never knew anyone who was in a book before. We talk till my little button eyes are about to fall shut. She says it's all right if I fall asleep, she will keep me safe, and picks me up, rocking me in her arms, singing softly like Mommie would do for Girl when she was very little.

* * *

At his apartment Giles placed his bundle with Mr. Gordo atop the kitchen counter and put a kettle on for a cup of tea.

He puttered about the small apartment until the tea brewed, then poured himself a cup, retrieved his mail and retreated to the sofa to unwind. After finishing the mail, he returned to the kitchen for something a bit stronger pouring in a little more tea and some Scotch from a bottle near the stove. Restless, he repeated this action a few times before saying 'sod the tea' and just focused on the bottle, and his stack of waiting-to-be-read books, taking them and the pig into the living room, setting them on the coffee table.

Placing Mr. Gordo down on the table next to his books, he leaned back relaxing on the sofa, taking a slug from the bottle. He stared at the little peach porker for a long time, continuing to drink till the room become foggy.

"So, Mr. Gordo, did we have a fun day today?" he mocked, picking him up. "A big day for you, little man? Got to ride in a sports car and teenybop around the mall. Get enough girly time?" he held him up to his ear for a reply he knew would never come, "Yes? Oh, good good."

"Look at this emasculating playboy bunny outfit they've stuck you in," he played with the floppy-eared headdress. "Yer a pig, man, not a bunny," he began to chuckle then laugh aloud, "although you did scare the dickens out of Anya this evening, well done, old chap." He thought a moment, "if you weren't Buffy's, I might just keep you to terrorize her every so often when she niggles my last nerve. Would you enjoy that? What? Oh yes, me too."

'So, now when I'm hammered I'm reduced to talking to pigs? This hellmouth is taking more out of me than I ever imagined,' he thought. "I bet you're loving every minute of this," he raised an eyebrow. "You know Anya's not the only one with secrets." He waved a pointed finger getting up a little too quickly, then with a dizzy grunt stumbled over to a small closet just off the living room.

Returning, he placed an office box on the floor at his feet, took off the top and rummaged through it. "I've lost a lot in my short life," he absentmindedly blew air through his lips, "short. Grandparents, parents, siblings, friends, and... charges." His voice cracked a bit and he coughed. "This is about the only thing I have left... My link to the past and my childhood," he became silent and sat drifting between morose and the drunken state of un, then finally pulled out an object done up in a silky cloth. Unwrapping it, he held the little item carefully in both hands, gazing at it fondly. 'Of all the stuff I still have, Nanna, I treasure this the most.'

Setting it on the table, he continued to stare, a slightly lopsided smile emblazoned across his face. He reached for Mr. Gordo and set him next to the new. "Mr. Gordo, meet Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle." Next he reached for his bottle only to find it empty, then checked his watch and frowned. Getting up again, he took his empty into the kitchen, quickly rinsed it out, and placed it in the recycle bin. Turning out the kitchen light, he returned to the living room and lovingly patted his precious object on the head. "Take care of Mr. Gordo tonight, would you?" he smiled whilst dimming the end table lamp. "You two play nice. I'm off to bed, cheers," and headed up the stairs to bed.

* * *

When the light and colors come on in the world without walls, Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle wakes me. I have learned so much from her I almost don't want to go, but my place is with my Girl as hers is with the Old Frowny One. And soon a bell rings and Frowny comes back down the stairs. He heads toward the door, but then stops and calls out instead, and hurries over to us. He picks up Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle, gives her the same loving look I have seen from Girl oh so many times, then carefully wraps her back in the cloth, 'bye-bye new friend,' putting her in the box and hurrying it away.

The bell keeps ringing, and he runs back to the door. It's Red Fur and Shy Girl. Red races in and over to me, scooping me up. She is excited to see me. 'Yes, yes! Hello, Red Fur. You came! Oh, you came for me!' She holds me tight and hugs me. 'Ooophf, I love you too,' and talks so fast her words run together, almost like the Old Frowny One's did. She then hands me off to Shy. 'Hello Shy One. I missed you.' Shy puts back on my bunny costume and holds me extra tight until finally we are on our way. The girls hurry home. Back in Girl's room I see a brightly wrapped box on her bed, a present. I hear them talk and all my outfits are in there. They set me on top of it and close the door all excited like.

I wait there. This I know how to do, and when Girl finally comes in I yell, 'Surprise!' Girl loves my new outfits. She laughs and turns red, and we play dress up like we used to. I so want to tell her all my big day stuff, but all too soon the fun is over and she has to go, go back out into the dark, and takes Red and Shy with her. I sit and think I will bust until it's quiet, and soon when it's safe, I trot into Red Fur and Shy Girl's room to find Jesse to ask him...

* * *

Way too early in the morning, the doorbell rang, rousing Giles from his way too short sleep. Sitting up way too quickly the room spun and his head throbbed. 'Ohhh, bloody hell, that was intelligent, Rupert."

Blinking, he noticed he hadn't fully made it to a state of undress as he sat up and pulled an over shirt on and hurried as fast as a dead man could down the stairs, 'Infernal bell.' "Yes, coming," he called reaching the door. Then the haze lifted somewhat and he looked over his shoulder at the coffee table. "Just a moment," and rushed to the living room, whisking up Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle, gently rewrapping her and secreting her box back into the depths of his closet.

Swinging open the door, he greeted Willow and Tara with, "Have you ever heard the old axiom about patience?"

Willow nearly shoved him racing past him into the apartment on a tear about something he attempted to blot out as her din was making his head ache even more. He rubbed at his temples as Tara entered.

"S-sorry, Mister Giles," Tara said. "I could only hang onto her for so long."

"Mmm, I'd ask you to stay for breakfast if I were in a better state."

She noted his disheveled appearance and lack of glasses, "No, I'll just take her somewhere, it's one of _those_ days," she smiled crookedly at him. "She's on her third latte already, plus we shouldn't be bothering you this early. Right, Will?"

But Willow just continued to trip about the living room, championing the toy.

"Yes, yes, it's safe," he tossed out just wishing the noise would stop. "Just take it and be gone."

She handed Mr. Gordo to Tara as though he were a prize just won in a competition. Tara fiddled with it, putting its costume back on, and shoved him into her oversized purse for safekeeping as Willow ran out of the house shouting, "Come on, Tara. Hurry!"

"I'll see you both later this afternoon," he made with the pleasantries.

Tara looked to him sympathetically again, then waved the bag with the pig at him, "Good-bye Mister Giles."

"Good-bye." Closing the door behind them he took a deep breath and lumbered upstairs heading to the medicine cabinet for an aspirin and a return to bed. Swallowing a sip of water after his pill, he laid down, closed his eyes, and shook his head.

'Mr. Gordo. All this excitement over a stuffed pig. It had better help Buffy.'

fin


End file.
